Unfortunate Antics Ensue
by TheXGrayXLady
Summary: Jack does various things. Unfortunate antics ensue. Now, all your favorites are in one convenient location!
1. Game Night

**_New Note:_ Hey guys. I'm just here to say that I've taken it upon myself to organize my fics and decided my historical paper on the United Arab Emerites can be in one place. I'm too damn lazy to edit my notes so I'm just going to leave them as is. I've made some minor tweeks to some places that are weird, but all the fics are otherwise unchanged  
**

**Just a short little oneshot that's been bouncing around in my brain for the past few weeks. I figured, why not publish. If it'll bring a smile to the faces of a few people, then it's worth it.**

**Disclaimer: While this was inspired by actual events, I don't own Xiaolin Showdown.**

It was at times like these when he began to seriously consider taking a few mental health days. As if keeping straight A's at school and planning to take over the world wasn't stressful enough. Now he'd gotten himself into really deep shit. All because he had one stupid idea.

At the time, it was brilliant. Attempt some of that "power of friendship" stuff that the Xiaolin Losers were always ranting about. Of course, due to numerous backstabbing and other various nefarious acts that came with the villain territory, the Heylins didn't exactly have that buddy-buddy relationship. Sure, they could work together, but Jack figured that a little extra bit of closeness couldn't hurt. Maybe get the whole teamwork edge.

That was where he got the idea for Game Night. Every other week a bunch of them would get together and play board games. So far, it hadn't been going well.

After a quick pit stop in the kitchen for a ginger ale, he walked up to the living room. He flipped the lid on the old wooden trunk his family used to store games and bright happy colors looked back up at him while he considered which to bring today.

Definitely not Candy Land. He'd brought that once and been ridiculed for it. Mercilessly ridiculed as only fifteen hundred year old evildoers, sadistic robots, a wannabe ninja, a Russian, and a crazy cat lady could.

Scrabble was out too. Tubbimura was the spelling police. Vlad kept pointing out the anatomical inaccuracies in Operation in disgusting detail, so that wasn't coming with him. Maybe Chinese Checkers...no. The immortals insisted that they play by fifteen-hundred year old rules, which included bamboo splinters under the nails for the losers. Certainly not Twister, only Vlad and Katnappe would be happy to repeat that after the last time.

Nobody got the point of Sorry and only Katnappe understood the point of Mousetrap, so those weren't it. Robo-Jack and Chameleon-bot cheated at cards, leaving everybody hating _him_ for installing X-ray vision. Wuya was a little too good at Clue for her own good, only he liked Ticket to Ride, and Chase always -_always- _won Risk. It didn't matter if the man had been holed up in frickin' Australia for the entire game, he would find a way to win.

He took a sip of his ginger ale and set the rejected games aside. There were three games remaining in the box. Apples to Apples, Dirty Minds, and Monopoly. Nobody in this group could win Dirty Minds if their life depended on it. Apples to Apples would get dirty fast. Very fast. So that was another no go. He smiled as he pulled the dusty Monopoly box out of the chest and replaced the other games.

He fondly remembered playing Monopoly with his grandmother years ago -he was always the dog. _This _could be the game that saved his idea. Nobody could possibly be mad while playing Monopoly.

**Poor Jack. Poor, poor Jack. The boy has no idea what he's getting himself into...so, let me know what you think about this. Good, bad, indifferent? I simply must know. There will be cake for the reviewers! And because I am a shameless self-promoter, there's still a month to enter my Crack contest! :)**


	2. Ice Cream

**The long awaited sequel to Game Night is here. More happy happy fun time with everybody's favorite boy genius. :) I'll confess, it was hard to write this. It's hard to abuse Jack while he goes out for ice cream. I originally set out to write what happened when they played monopoly, but realized that I had no idea what was supposed to happen, so you've got a bunch of vague hints at what happened, but what exactly it was is up to your own interpretation. I'm too lazy to do it for you. (insert deadly serious smiley here) Thanks to everybody who reviewed Game Night. These fics were oodles of fun to write! Definately a welcome change from the serious nonsense I've been working on for Dragon Heart and that songfic bit. :)**

**Disclaimer: I'm watching CSI while I write this, and while I don't see the pig, I know it's there. I don't own anything. **

_**Ice Cream**_

This was yet another low point in the life of Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius. Just one week away from the infamous "Park Place Debacle" and he'd already gotten himself back into deep shit. Not that he had gotten out of deep shit in the first place, but he was working hard at potentially putting himself in a position where he could maybe maneuver himself to the point where there was a possibility of getting slightly out of said deep shit.

And now that chance had gone out the window with this _wonderful_ trip. A new Wu had gone active and he'd gone to retrieve it. First off, he'd had to drive Wuya and Chase there. This wouldn't have been so bad normally, but the sorcerer was a bit miffed about his game pieced induced haircut. If miffed was defined as murderous rage not normally associated with the normally disturbingly calm immortal. Wuya hated the batbot anyway and was especially furious with him because the "Park Place Debacle" gave Ashley the perfect opportunity to steal the Golden Tiger Claws, which was the reason why he was driving them in the first place.

Then at the showdown Vlad had kicked his ass for breaking up him and Ashley. So both he and the Xiaolin Losers had lost one of the most useless Wu ever to a crazy Russian. If Vlad ever needed to repair an exactly two cubic centimeter hole in the toe of a slipper, he was all set. After that, the cue ball decided that it was time for him to make good on his promise to buy them Mondays. And there was no convincing Omi that now might not be the best time for Mondays.

And that was why he was currently standing in line at an ice cream place in his town after spending an hour dealing with Chase, the old hag, Omi, and the rest of the Xiaolin Losers in his poor batbot. The cashier gave him a distainful look as he slowly walked up to the counter. They were obviously displeased by the people he brought with him.

"Awkward family reunion," he said by way of explanation for the slew of strange people. Probably not the best explanation seeing as only Wuya really even sort of looked like she could be related to him. And he mildly resented the notion that all red-heads were related.

"I am Omi, great Xiaolin Dragon of the Water. I am on a quest for a Monday," the cheese ball said, bounding up to the counter. The girl behind the counter gave him a "you've got to be kidding me" type look. Jack gave her a hushed, hasty explanation about a socially awkward cousin from China and she was more or less satisfied.

So, after Omi bounced off to a table, ice cream in hand, the rest of the group ordered. Chase and Wuya were initially against this whole thing, but were now seated at a back table, a bowl of organic, soy, green tea ice cream and a crossword between them. Clay ordered one of those flavors that seemed to be on the menu specifically to make people go "Why the hell would someone ever order that?" Much to Kimiko's displeasure (and the near melting of raspberry sorbet), Raimundo charmed an extra scoop of mint chocolate chip out of their server. And of course they'd had to get something ridiculously chocolaty for their "pet gecko."

"You guys still have that honey-ginger flavor?" His favorite even above banana, but they didn't always have it and you had to really be willing to ask.

"No sorry, everybody just loves that flavor don't they?" she said. "Can I get you something else?"

"Banana?" he said.

"I'm so sorry, we just ran out," she said, a cheery smile still plastered on her face. This was what he got for coming late in the day.

"How about purple cow?" It was good enough.

"Today's just not your day is it?"

"You have no idea," he said, remembering how Le Mime showed up for the first time in three years to communicate his displeasure in not being invited to game night the day they played charades. "Do you have mocha chip?"

"Yep. Coming right up," she said. She returned shortly with the ice cream and he paid up for the group. He was going to need an advance on his allowance. Or get a real job.

So, he went and sat with the Xiaolin Losers –just because they were enemies it didn't mean they couldn't get along-, chatted, joked around, and shared mutual complaints about Monopoly. Apparently Raimundo cheated, Omi actually tried to know the rules, Clay knew how it was going to end so he refused to start, and Kimiko was absolutely ruthless. How his favorite game could cause such misery was beyond him.

Omi had started a "who can balance a spoon on their nose for the longest" contest, drawing eye rolls from Kimiko and a "Those goddamn rotten teenagers!" glare from the cashier. Just as he was about to totally on purpose let the spoon slide from his nose, a familiar noise made him jump, almost literally, out of his steel toed boots.

"Jack!" an overly loud voice screamed in his ear. "You were supposed to play tea party with me!" He'd forgotten about that, but how the hell Megan found him was another matter entirely. She was theoretically stuck at home being babysat by the Jackbots.

"Well…you see…erm…there was…meteor…unicorns…and…yogurt…forty-two…" he was basically spewing out gibberish to keep himself from being chewed out as only an eight year old could.

"What Jack means to say is that we adolescent-slept him in a most dishonorable manner," Omi said. He shot the cheese ball a grateful look. He'd just saved him a lot of thinking.

"Kidnapped," Raimundo said, looking beyond frustrated with the younger boy's vocabulary.

"No. You see Raimundo, Jack is not a child, so we cannot call him a kid," Omi explained. The ensuing argument between the stubborn Dragons drew a rather irate stare from the server. Of the "If they get any louder I'm going to kick them out" variety. He took that as his cue to leave.

"Alright Megan, I'm going to make my escape now. Then we will play tea party all day," he said, standing up and making a beeline for the door only to be stopped by Chase.

"Keys," he said, holding out an expectant hand. Crap. He was supposed to give them a ride home. He respected Chase and revered his evil hero above all else, but he drew the line at his car.

"This is a bit awkward, but I kinda sorta can't drive you guys home today," he said, fiddling with his goggles. "And erm…the ignition requires fingerprint recognition to start."

"Fine then. We will accompany you until you can bring us back to my citadel," he said, his tone was perfectly calm and rational, almost friendly, but Jack could tell there was no arguing.

"Yay! More guests for tea!" Megan said, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands as the four of them left the shop. "But you need to ditch your ugly clothes. I think Aunty Susan has a pink dress that would go great with your eyes."

Chase cringed, Wuya snickered, Jack gulped, but none of them argued. It would have been futile. She would have kicked their asses. A tea party with Chase in a dress that even his mom wouldn't be caught dead in –Jack knew which dress she was talking about, she always made one of the Jackbots wear the frilly thing- could not be a good thing.

**Poor boy. Poor, poor boy. I honestly ran out of ideas in the end. If anyone wants to write up what happened on that one last game night or what happens at the tea party, be my guest, but I'm more or less done with it. I'm happy the way it turned out and as much as I enjoyed it, I'm going to admit that I'm done. Leave me a review please. There will be honey-ginger ice cream if you do. (best flavor in the world BTW)**

**PS. You've still got about a month for my Crack contest, so if you're interested check it out! **


	3. Microwaves

**The latest in my UAE series. And yes, they are all really written about the United Arab Emirates. I don't know where you're getting this notion that they're Xiaolin Showdown fanfics. I don't think this one is my best work. Not by a long shot. But I got the inspiration and I felt like writing it. (AKA I am procrastinating on like everything.) It's a lot easier to make the UAE fics funny when it's Jack narrating, but hey, can't win them all. So, without further ado, I give you my latest nonsense. **

**Disclaimer: I'm really not sure about the status of the pig in Grissom's former office. I've got like four back episode of CSI that I need to watch on Hulu, but I just don't have the time. So I'm just going to say that I don't own anything. **

**_Microwaves_**

The box spat blue sparks and trembled on the marble. Thick black smoke oozed from the front and quickly filled the air. A beeping noise came from somewhere behind her, but it didn't hold her attention. She could feel the heat radiating from the box, smell the singed hair where she hadn't dodged a spark fast enough, hear the whirr of the box.

She set out immediately from the room, careful to use a little of her remaining magic to lock the door behind her. If she was lucky, she could keep this under wraps. There had to be a way to fix the demon box. The library probably had something on demon box repair. It was some time around eleven in the morning, so Chase was probably training with the cats so it would be safe to do some research without him finding out.

She darted to the massive oak doors and slipped in. She went straight to the spirit section for information on demon boxes. She'd spent so much time in that puzzle box she was behind on more modern methods of spirit capture. She knew of a couple varieties of imps that would shoot sparks if you needed to use them to heat a potion. Of course, you captured those in a lamp or a tinderbox. Something that would be useful. Why you would ever put one in a box was beyond her.

She'd seen Chase and the cats using it often enough to know what it was used for though. She'd even seen Jack using a similar device to heat what he called "the food of the gods." AKA nasty instant ramen that wouldn't pass for god food in any pantheon that she'd known over the course of her lifetime. Perhaps the standards for immortals passing themselves off to humans as gods had fallen over the course of her fifteen hundred year imprisonment.

She found a book on electrical spirits. She figured that she should probably know more seeing as she spent a year and a half with Mr. Modern Technology, but all she really learned from watching Jack was that he could blow up kitchen appliances in less than five minutes and that his mother was typically less than pleased about that. She did know that it was generally a good idea to ask Jack to help, but she didn't have time for that.

On page forty-two she found an imp that would cause similar reactions to what she saw in the demon box. Proper expulsion charms wouldn't require anything out of the ordinary given the odd assortment of potion ingredients in the citadel. A few minutes and a trip to a storeroom later, she was back in the kitchen with a unicorn horn, stardust, eye of newt, wool of dog, and some monkshood to dispel it. Oddly enough, the box was no longer shooting sparks by the time she returned.

"What in the name of all that is unholy did you do to my microwave?" a newly blond dragon warlord said, stepping out of the shadows. Between the game piece induced haircut and the "your hair clashes with the dress" induced dye job he looked like a Side Avenue Guy. Thankfully, it was cheap dye so it was washing out. Unfortunately, it was cheap dye and was washing out in awkward streaks.

"I needed to heat a potion to make it work properly. Your demon box attacked me," she explained. It wasn't like she was doing something stupid like trying to make a robot out of a blender.

"You put a spoon in the microwave. How long did you live with Spicer? He practically lives off that god awful ramen. You should have something as simple as a microwave figured out," he said, holding the bowl filled with sizzling neon blue liquid out to her. The spoon she used to stir it crackled with electricity. At least the potion was still useable.

"I have fifteen hundred years' worth of technology to catch up on. Sorry if this particular device missed my attention," she said. It wasn't like she missed something important like cars, cellphones, electricity, tesla coils, the periodic table, the UN, coffee makers, or online shopping. His reputation with technology wasn't exactly flawless either. He'd learned to drive in a three wheeled car some time in the late eighteen hundreds. He'd never bothered to keep up to date.

He didn't respond, just surveyed the wreckage. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the bowl, considering his options. She really hoped he wouldn't throw her out over a micro-thingy. Her loyalty was tenuous enough as it was what with him taking her powers and preventing her from doing anything to remedy that. If she was out over this unfortunate events would ensue.

"It clashed with the décor anyway," she offered. It did. And that counter top was cracked too, but she got the feeling that it might possibly be a bad idea to bring that up now.

"I've got bigger things to worry about than this," he said after a bit of awkward silence. "Jack is inviting us to a Karaoke Night. While it is always worthwhile to watch Spicer make a fool of himself, he's also inviting Hannibal and that intolerable crazy cat lady." Like he wasn't a crazy cat man himself.

"Good to know we're avoiding this," she said, taking the potion from him, their fingers lingering together on the bowl for a few seconds longer than was really necessary. "It will give me time to learn how to properly use this micro-thingy."

"Who said anything about avoiding it?" he said. "If the Side Avenue Guy look fits, I'm going to use it to the best of my ability to show up that has-been bean." This was going to end _so_ well. Although she supposed that she had nothing better to do this week.

**So...what do you think? Just how bad is it? Please be honest with me. Feel free to flame if you like because I've got a bag of marshmallows that I would like to share with reviewers. Flames mean that we get to toast them. And I'd much rather have toasted marshmallows than the plain ones. Or just review. That makes me happy too. **


	4. Aftermath

**Okay...so copy pasting lyrics get really tedious. I've got something better! (for my attention span) Thanks to everybody who reviewed Microwaves. I know. Ramen is like the worst "food" ever. I'm going to starve when I go to college. Now without further adue, more Happy Happy Fun Time!**

**Disclaimer: I own this and all these songs when that pig in a jar leaves Grissom's office. I've said that many times before and I will keep saying it until it sinks in. Good Day. **

**_Aftermath_**

Just when he thought he was going to do something to put himself in a position to think about maybe possibly getting to the point where he could do something to maneuver himself to a place where he could be begin to get out of the deep shit started by the Park Place Debacle and continued by the Tea Party Incident, this just had to happen. Admittedly, it was kind of his fault for having a bunch of villains over for a karaoke party. But it wasn't his idea for them to go about acting like a bunch of stupid teenagers. The fact that most of them were, in fact, teenager didn't make any difference. They should have known better.

First off, his lab was sort of trashed. Beakers and soldering irons lay everywhere as a result of Tubbimura trying to breakdance. He had already made a mental note never to allow that again. Ever. For any reason. Then his speakers were ruined from a fight between Vlad's pet honey badger Demitri and Ashley's kittens. He was reasonably these ones were Boots and Mittens. Those cats were nasty.

The upstairs was worse though. A couple of the villains had decided to raid his refrigerator and one of them, he was pretty sure it was Robo-Jack, spilled both gingerale and banana pudding on his mum's nice rug. Needless to say, Susan Spicer would not be happy with him. More over having what she called "a wild, unsupervised, teenage party without permission" than the rug stain. Even though three of the villains were decidedly much older than teenagers.

It wasn't like it was his fault that Chase and Hannibal had used his living room for a sparring ground until said incident with Demitri, Boots, and Mittens. He'd given them fair warning that the other would be there.

He continued putting cups and napkins into a trash bag, slightly exasperated that nine people could make such a mess. He figured that it was the second law of thermodynamics in action. The universe tends toward chaos.

The karaoke part hadn't even gone that badly. Most of them looked like they were having fun for that bit. Chase had done "Sexyback" a little too well for someone who claimed that their most modern musical tastes were The Beatles. Wuya had done a surprisingly good job on "All That Jazz." Ashley went with "Stray Cat Strut." Oddly enough, Vlad sang "In the Dark of the Night," leading to him and Ashley having a giggle fit later over the implication that the Russian had watched a children's movie often enough for him to have memorized it, although it was rather terrifying to watch. Naturally, Robo-Jack had gone with "Still Alive" and was joined by a chorus of Jackbots. Le Mime had mimed a version of some French song. Whatever it was, the collective Heylin audience was in tears by the end of it. Hannibal did "Bad" in a manner that was fairly self-explanatory. Tubbimura had foregone singing and stuck to making sarcastic comments about everybody else. Himself, he'd indulged himself a bit and went with "Call Me Maybe."

Nobody had really gotten upset until Demitri twisted himself off his leash. At which point Mittens and Boots decided that he looked rather like an oversized and rather tasty mouse. Pulling them apart took some substantial effort on their part. By the end of it, the living room was short a couple of vases and his lab was missing a test tube or seven. Picking up broken porcelain and glass was not pleasant. Plus, finding replacement vases at midnight was a bitch.

It was some time around noon when he finally finished cleaning the house. He was relieved too. His mum and dad would be back from their business trip soon and if there was one thing Susan and Leonard Spicer would be upset about, it would be a house wrecked by a bunch of crazies in costumes at a non-approved party.

Just as he was about to settle down on his couch for a marathon of reruns of 30 Rock, the door swung open and his parents stepped into the foyer. Where he had neglected to remove the flowers trampled by Demitri, the soda stained rug, and the remnants of one of the broken vases.

"Oh shit," he said, jumping off the sofa and in a display of surprising agility ran from the house. He figured a couple of hours down town and a honey ginger ice cream would be best for him if this was going to properly simmer down. He could blame it on a robot malfunction while he was gone. At least he knew that for a few hours the people who could get him out of deep shit were happy with him.

**So there you have it. The current state of affairs in the United Arab Emirates. For further updates on this developing story, please give a review and our intrepid reporters will be back with the news some time around Christmas. **


	5. Knitting

**Alright everybody. This is one of those ideas that you get in the middle of the night while working on a chapter of Sky Heart and no matter what you do you can't get rid of it even though it's absolute crack. Chase has got to have a hobby. You'd get quite bored after fifteen hundred years. This is only Chack if you want it to be, it wasn't intended to be and I ship Chuya and Jashley, but I see how it could be. Anyway, Happy Boxing Day Eve and Fifth Night of Hanukkah (and I guess Christmas if you celebrate it.)**

**Disclaimer: While I own a nice new pair of slippers and a gift card to American Eagle, I don't own this. **

**_Knitting_**

"I think I did pretty well if I do say so myself," Jack said, smirking and holding the new Wu under his arm as Wuya fiddled with the combination. "And I do."

"You slipped and fell down the mountain and Omi ran back to check on you, tripped and fell the rest of the way down, bringing Katnappe down with him. If that's how you define doing pretty well we need to have a chat," she said, adjusting her emerald green knit scarf. The door swung open and they walked in. They started towards the storeroom for the Wu, but Jack stopped when the oddest sight met his eyes.

Chase Young, his evil genius hero, an evil badass's evil badass, was sitting on a stone bench by one of the waterfalls, knitting furiously. He glanced up at them momentarily before resuming knitting whatever he was knitting. Jack bit his lip and walked on a little faster.

"Did you just see that?" he asked Wuya when he was pretty sure they were out of earshot.

"Did you ever wonder why there is a massive basket of yarn in the middle of the citadel?" she responded. He actually had, but figured that it was to keep the cats amused. At least now he had an explanation for why all of the cats had a constant supply of warm winter socks.

He shrugged and they deposited the Wu in the storeroom. Wuya went off to wherever it was she was going to go to do whatever it was she was going to do. He took the Monkey Staff back, his price for giving them the other Wu.

"Now Spicer," a voice said. He whipped around to find himself face to face with Chase Young. He looked dangerously calm and almost a little amused. Jack screamed in a very manly fashion like a man and not at all like a little girl. Chase laughed slightly. "Please Spicer. If I wanted to hurt you, you would be hurt." All of this said in a manner than plainly communicated, "You saw nothing and if you tell someone that you think you saw something, you will be taken out behind the chemical sheds and shot." Perhaps not in those exact words, Chase would probably pick something unpleasant involving really thin bamboo splinters and tigers, but the general gist of it was there.

"Well then erm…what do you want?" he asked, trying to get over his near heart attack.

"Nothing. Happy Holidays Spicer," he said, his point having been communicated.

Jack practically ran from the lair, not really afraid of Chase, but quite terrified by the prospect of showing up late to Christmas shopping with his mother. Breaking a yearly tradition might just be punishable with spending time at the spa in ritualized torture disguised as mother-son bonding.

_**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**_

"How is it that six people can make such a mess?" he asked himself as he cleaned up wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Megan was probably the culprit, but his dad and Uncle John were like little kids when it came to unwrapping presents. He didn't feel like watching the same holiday movies that they watched every year, so he figured he's save himself some time and clean up while they weren't watching Elf.

He picked up a sheet of red paper and shoved it into the trash bag. He almost missed it, but underneath was a box wrapped in jade green paper with his name on it. His family had finished with the gift giving and were now mostly watching Frosty in the other room. The monks had sent him a gift, but the combination first aid kit and emergency stock of banana pudding and ginger ale was wrapped in red and gold. He was almost suspicious of the package.

He carefully unwrapped the box, putting the paper straight into the bag. It was an ordinary box, just plain thin cardboard. Inside however, there was a red and black knit beanie and a note in neat, but workmanlike handwriting. _Take note, this does not mean that I approve of you. Rather I've gotten tired of you griping about being cold._

He put the hat on, it fit rather well. He was going to check it in the mirror in a few minutes. Snowboarding in Aspen this year was going to kick ass. Provided he didn't die from some hex embedded in the beanie beforehand.

**Sorry if this wasn't very good and was more random than it was funny. I wanted to be nice to Jack at the end of the fic for once. Enjoy and review. I've got orange and cranberry pancakes for you if you review...no, it's not bribery. It's just persuasion through food...**


	6. Making Christmas

**Before you ask, I just want to confirm that this is not the UAE Christmas Special. This was just a bunch of funny little things that I thought of to tide you over until then. Yes, I know that I can't write poetry so most of the bit at the beginning is slant rhyme at best. Anywho, I saw the new Sherlock Holmes movie yesterday and all I have to say is "J'aime beaucoup." Robert Downey Jr. is officially unquestionably Sherlock Holmes in my book (Sorry Benidict Cumberbatch, you and your silly name cannot hope to live up to this). Thank you boyfriend for the best late birthday present ever! **

**Disclaimer: I missed CSI this week because our bus coming back from a swim meet broke down and we didn't get home until like midnight. If anybody saw the pig in jar let me know. **

**_Making Christmas_**

'_T was the month before Christmas when all through the temple,_

_there were most definitely creatures stirring, especially the squirrels._

_All the monks, they were training with care,_

_in hopes that Master Fung wouldn't act like a bear._

_The dragon was nestled all snug in his bed,_

_while visions of chocolate chips danced in his head._

_And Clay in his handkerchief and Kimiko in a rather strange cap,_

_a dummy's neck they proceeded to snap._

_When in the great hall there arose such a clatter,_

_The leader ran over to see what was the matter._

_Then to his usually selective ears should hear_

_Master Li calling out "Mail's here!"_

"Ooh something from home," he said, almost rolling his eyes. His mum sent him embarrassingly long and detailed letters from back home at least twice a month. If he ever wanted to know what his sister's latest ex's cousin's friend's niece's great aunt's dog was doing at a given moment, he would find out. In excessive detail.

With a deft movement, he opened the envelope, expecting yet another letter detailing Great Aunt Gloria's battle with toe fungus. As the laws of the universe dictate that the Dragon of the Wind can never be right when it looks like being right will either make them happy or they are assured to be right, it wasn't. It was instead a card from his family with a picture of them all dressed in the hideous holiday sweaters his mum always made them wear. This years featured reindeer with jingle bells and red pompoms for noses.

_Dear Raimundo,_ the card read, _I wasn't sure how long it would take to send you this year's family Christmas card, so we took the picture a little early this year. I hope you are doing well at the temple. Be sure to be careful while saving the world and what not. The house seems so empty without you here for the holidays, but I'm sure we'll manage somehow. (Although Carlos seems to have taken up your tradition of prank gifts.) _He'd taught the kid well it seemed. _I have to cut this short as we're trying to figure out just how Dexter got his head stuck in the banister and how to get it out, but we just want you to know just how proud of you we are and that we're all wishing you a Merry Christmas. Love, Mom, Dad, Carlos, Maria, Diego, Juan, Ricardo, Adriana, Sylvia, Alexandre, and Dexter._

Just how the dog had managed to get its head in the banister was anybody's question. The mutt had about as much common sense as Omi on a sugar rush. It was nice to get a Christmas card from home though. It reminded him of years of ugly sweaters, trying to stay up and see Santa (which mysteriously never happened), decorating Christmas cookies (and of course putting the sprinkles in his sisters' hair), singing carols horribly off key (not that _he_ ever was), visiting friends and family, and other such Christmas traditions.

This planted the seeds of an idea in his head. A few conversations with people, and it had bloomed in to a full-fledged _Harebrainius Schemicus_. Clay missed family Christmases just as much as he did, and so was totally on board. Kimiko never really made a big deal about Christmas, but was in if it involved shopping. After hearing his and Clay's explanations, Omi was excited about celebrating the holidays. Minerva had her typical indifference to the idea, but said okay. Guan was alright with it. Master Fung approved it and his plan was all set. Now to put his master plan into action…

_**X~X~X~X~X~X~X**_

**_Phase One: The Tree_**

"Dashi-Damned Son of a Birch!" he exclaimed after what had to be the twentieth attempt at cutting down a tree with the Diadem of Westares, a new Wu that would shoot a precision energy beam that you could use to cut through anything. It hadn't exactly been working for him.

He and Clay took a trip to, well he wasn't exactly sure where, but there were pine trees. The Texan offered to help with cutting down the tree, but he insisted that he could handle this himself. He totally had this under control. Just one more try…

_**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**_

"You know, you could just make it fall over," she said, giving the cowboy a bemused look. They boys were taking forever to get the tree, so Kimiko decided to check up on them.

"Yep," he replied, dusting some snow from a log before sitting down.

"This is more entertaining isn't it?" she said, watching Raimundo threatening the tree.

"Yep," he said.

"Cool. I'm in," she said, melting a patch of snow and sitting down next to him. "We need to get him to do this more often." Raimundo was attempting to use the Wu again, but as per usual, to no success.

"I say that if he doesn't get done in an hour we go home and come back tomorrow," he said. Meanwhile, Raimundo jumped up and down like a crazy person while shouting in Portuguese. "And bring popcorn."

"You read my mind," she said as they fistbumped.

_**Phase one, Part two: Decorating the Aforementioned Tree**_

"Raimundo, are you sure that electricity should go near something as flammable as a tree?" Omi asked, gesturing to the string of lights festooning the tree that he finally managed to drag back to the temple.

"I've never had one catch fire on me before." If you didn't count the one Uncle Louis was smoking his cigar a little too close too. He and Omi had gone on a little quest earlier to find ornaments. They'd gotten some fun looking yin-yang symbols, some colored balls, a couple glass ornaments that he'd made a mental note to keep far, far, away from Dojo, some lights, and a silver star for the top of the tree.

"If you say so," he said, putting another candy cane on the tree.

"I do," he said, giving the shorter monk a playful shove. "You want to help me out with this?" He gestured to the star.

"I will do my very best to ensure the success of the placement of the star atop this lovely tree," Omi said, picking it up and jumping to try to get it on top of the tree.

_**X~X~X~X~X~X**_

"This is going to end badly isn't it?" the sorceress said, watching from the door frame.

"Just think. They told _me_ to stay away from the glass bits," Dojo said, making a quiet tsk-tsk noise as Omi and Raimundo flipped around the room trying to get the star to the top of the tree.

"My money's on the tree," she said.

**_Phase 2: The Gifts_**

"What was it Master Fung wanted again?" he said, looking at a stack of philosophy books.

"He said socks," Kimiko said, trying to discreetly look at a World Cup poster. "Something about how everybody always gets him books when all he really wants is a pair of warm wool socks."

"Alright then. To the part of the mall that has socks!" he said, making an over the top "I am a knight on a quest" type gesture.

"You have no idea where you're going, do you?" she said, giggling slightly.

"I'm just going to take the scenic route to the socks," he said, grinning like a maniac.

"I'm coming with you," she said following him to the store entrance. There was no way she was going to let him cause chaos in a mall on his own. Plus, there was a little café that made the most amazing cappuccinos here and she figured that they could spend a little one on one time there when they were done.

"Aw, Phoenix is a GPS too?" he said, putting a hand around her waist.

"No, I just know that if left to your own devices you will manage to bring down the wrath of Mall Santa."

"Isn't that a movie?"

"Yes. And if you stay on my nice list we might get to see it."

**_Phase Two, Part Two: Wrapping said gifts_**

"How…" was all he could say as he surveyed the damage. He'd left Omi alone to wrap some gifts, and when he came back the side room was covered in ribbons and bows and wrapping paper and tape and some sticky green stuff.

"As it turns out, tape dispensers are a most fearsome opponent," Omi said, proudly displaying a perfectly wrapped gift to be placed under the tree.

**_Phase Three: The Food_**

"Even I know that's not how you make eggnog," Minerva said, looking cautiously into the blender.

"My mom said that it's just eggs and pudding mix," he said, shrugging, but equally afraid to try the concoction.

"Mint pudding?" she said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Mint's a Christmas flavor," he replied, ladling some of it into two mugs for sampling. "Bottom's up Birdy." She shrugged her agreement and they both drank, and rather quickly turned a shade of green not unlike the supposed eggnog.

**_Phase Three, Part Two: Christmas Cookies_**

"So, if we roll the dough out extra thin, put twelve cookies on a tray, and keep three trays in the oven at once, we can maximize cookie output while not increasing bake time," he explained, rolling the blueprint of his plan out on the table.

"But do we have enough icin' for six dozen gingerbread men?" Clay asked, pointing out the inherent flaw in his plan.

"As I recall, there is a rather good recipe under one of the bags of flour should we run out," Guan said, solving their problem.

"Alright then. Let's do this," he said, while the three of them tied on their frilly pink aprons.

**_Phase Four: Christmas Cards_**

"Alright guys. Huddle up," he said, gesturing for all of them to get together. "I've got an idea for the photo, but it's going to take some work. I'm going to need some sleeping potion, coffee, wrapping paper, bows, a Santa hat, ribbon, the Fancy Feet, the Golden Finger, and the Shard of Lightning."

_**X~X~X~X~X~X~X**_

It was strange for Chase to visit the basement of Jack Spicer, but he required the boy's services for a particularly difficult problem. Finding a suitable gift for Wuya was proving to be a bit of a problem. He sat down in the boy's favorite swirling chair and, to pass the time, examined the boy's collection of Christmas cards on his desk. Mostly just ones from family, pictures of the extended Spicer Clan on vacation or in ugly sweaters, cliché pictures of snowfields or Christmas trees, stuff like that.

At the back though there was one from the Xiaolin monks. He couldn't help but laugh at the picture. Minerva was sleeping in griffin form in a pile of wrapping paper and bows, with a ribbon tied around her neck, looking not unlike a worn out kitten. The white pompom of a Santa hat flopped in her face and a strand of gold ribbon threaded through her paws like a bit of yarn, making her look borderline adorable. He had the sneaking suspicion that the monks were in for glares, passive agressive remarks, and horrible happenings that she, of course, had nothing to do with.

**_Phase Five: Santa_**

"So let me get this perpendicular," Omi said.

"Straight," he corrected.

"Same difference," Omi said as he facepalm. "There is a man in a red suit who violates every law of magic and physics in one night by flying to every house in the world and keeps track of everybody who has been naughty and nice?"

"Yes," he said, showing Omi a picture of Santa Claus.

"This is most difficult to believe," Omi said, looking skeptically at the picture.

"You live in a temple with a dragon, a fifteen hundred year old warrior, a sorceress, and go around the world hunting for magical objects and you find _Santa_ hard to believe in?" he asked, looking equally skeptical right back at Omi.

"Raimundo, I am fifteen, not five," he said, looking vaguely offended.

**_Phase Six: Christmas Carols_**

"No." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared Raimundo down.

"Come on, it'll be fun. It doesn't fit me and we need someone to dress up as Santa for a costumed Christmas caroling celebration," he said, holding the red suit out to the cowboy.

"You're just using the alliteration to make yourself sound like you have authority, aren't you?" he replied.

"Why would you ever have such a thought?" he said.

"The answer's still no Rahi," he said. "That beard is made of goat hair and itches something' fierce."

"Well then cowboy, who do you think would work better because we're going caroling around the temple. Dressed in the weird, old fashioned costumes Kimiko picked out." She'd seem pictures of Christmas carolers dressed in Victorian costumes and had fallen in love with the idea.

Just then, Master Fung happened to walk out of one of the dorms.

**_Phase Six, Part Two: After Effects_**

"And a partridge in a pear tree!" everybody sang. They knew that they were all horribly off key, but it was fun as all get out so it didn't matter.

"Okay, which one next?" Kimiko asked, laughing and trying to take a sip of her eggnog. Raimundo had given up on the idea of homemade eggnog and had gone on a trip to the grocery store for something that wouldn't give everybody food poisoning.

"I rather liked Rudolph," Omi said. "Or Frosty."

"I think we already did those," he said.

"Carol of the Bells?" Clay suggested.

"Blasphemy against the Trans-Siberian Orchestra," Kimiko said.

"I think I've got an idea," he said, looking at Minerva walking into the kitchen to refill her coffee cup. "This one's for you Birdy."

She barely had time to cast a death glare at them before they began to sing. "Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas Eve…"

_**Phase Seven: Decorating the Temple**_

"Kim! Get over here right now," he yelled, the panic in his voice climbing ever higher with every moment.

"What did you manage to do this time?" she asked, coming out into the courtyard to see Raimundo tangled in lights, hanging upside-down from the roof. "How…"

"Don't ask, just help." He'd managed to do the rest of the lighting for the temple, but he'd tried to use his powers to wrap lights around one of the columns and it had gotten tangled around his foot. It went downhill from there.

**_Phase Seven, part two: Wreaths_**

"Rai, I think you're supposed to hang those on the doors rather than play horseshoes with 'em," Clay said, watching their fearless leader trying to throw a wreath around a vase.

"It'll get done eventually. This is just more fun in the meantime," he replied, a look of intense conversation on his face. He threw another one, but missed again. "A week of dishes says I'll get the next one."

"Two weeks of laundry says ya won't," Clay said, picking up a wreath and joining in the game.

**_Phase Eight: Christmas Stories_**

"And thus, if you are ugly, nobody will like you unless you are useful," Minerva said, snapping the storybook shut.

The Xiaolin Monks looked at each other, equally quizzical expressions plastered to all of their faces. "I'm not exactly sure that was the moral to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," Kimiko said, picking up the book to take her turn to read. "The Gift of the Magi…"

**_Phase Eight, Part Two: Christmas Movies_**

"Why is it that we got rid of the temple VCR when between all of us, all our movies are on VHS?" Raimundo asked, trying to find "A Christmas Story" on Youtube to no success.

"Because that would be breaking a fundamental law of the universe," Omi said, peaking over his shoulder.

"What?" he responded.

"Things can never be that easy for us," Kimiko said.

**_Phase Nine: Christmas Eve_**

Bathed in the multi-colored lights of the Christmas tree, sipping cocoa, nibbling gingerbread men, and telling old stories, four young dragons, two immortals, an old monk, and a dragon sat on a mismatched collection of sofas, chairs, and cushions. There was a plate with cookies and a glass of milk by a fireplace, which would soon disappear with the dragon as he went off to his basket. The gentle sound of a radio playing "Blue Christmas" intermingled with the crackle of a fire and the smell of pine and cookies filled the air.

A Santa hat sat atop the head of a brunette boy, the pompom from the top flopped onto head of the girl sitting next to him, her head snuggled into his shoulder. He draped his arm around her shoulder and tried to sing along. She gave him a look and earned a comment from him that indicated that he thought he was rather good at acting like Elvis. The group around them gave a collective "Aww…" and both of them blushed bright red.

Sitting on a cushion, the round headed boy smiled. He'd heard Raimundo and Clay talking about big, noisy family Christmases. The highly functional dysfunctional group was basically for all intents and purposes his family. They were loud, obnoxious, argumentative, quirky, loyal, and loving, and he would do anything for them. Except believe in a concept which broke every law of physics and magic and didn't make much sense to begin with.

A cowboy hat sat next to the armchair where another boy sat. He'd spent so much time at the temple that, if not for his mother sending Christmas cookies over yearly, he could have very well forgotten that it was even a holiday. He remembered years past where his home would be filled with the sights, sounds, and smells of the holidays. This was an equally strange and wonderful experience. Except for Rai's homemade eggnog. That could stay wherever he'd disposed of it.

All of them stayed in the room for a while, just chatting and enjoying the others' presence. They began to filter out and to bed around midnight, all of them eager for the Christmas morning they'd worked so hard for.

**_Phase Nine, Unexpected Event: Mischievous Elders Playing Matchmaker_**

The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she started off to bed. She yawned and took in the side room one last time before calling it a night. This was so much work, but it was so worth it. She saw Raimundo in the door frame, coming back in to retrieve his hat, and was about to step aside to let him through when she felt something gently, but forcefully pushing her forwards into him.

The source of the push smirked from her armchair and said, "Ooh, would you kids look at that. Mistletoe." She gestured to the top of the door frame where somebody had hung the aforementioned plant.

"You know what you're supposed to do with that right?" the dragon said from his basket. The two of them turned bright red.

"I believe it is custom for two people who meet under the mistletoe to kiss," Guan said, looking somehow even more serious than usual about this.

"I believe that there is a saying that while change is to be valued, the old ways must be treasured just as much. Tradition must be honored," Master Fung said.

"Well, what do you say?" he asked, still slightly sheepish.

Kimiko didn't respond, but rather put her hands on his shoulders, leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. He responded eagerly, but slightly surprised. His breath still tasted faintly of gingerbread cookies and mint hot chocolate. Without really thinking about the fact that there were people watching, she ran her tongue along his lips and…

"Hey kids! Keep it PG here. We've all got delicate minds with high moral standards," the dragon said, laughing slightly as the two of them reluctantly broke apart.

**_Phase Ten: Christmas Morning_**

"Alright Omi, this one's for you," he said, handing him the red wrapped gift. Omi carefully removed the tape and ribbons, leaving a box in a perfect square of wrapping paper. He'd gotten much better when it came to that stuff since earlier in the month. He opened the box and carefully removed a deep blue scarf with a pair of matching mittens.

"Thank you Kimiko," he said, putting on the scarf.

"You're welcome Omi," she said, fiddling with the lighter Raimundo had gotten her.

"Alright then. That about wraps it up for the gifts," he said, settling down on a chair, dodging the flurry of wadded up wrapping paper that flew at him as a result of the pun.

"Actually Rai," Kimiko said, taking a small box out from under a cushion. "You set up this entire thing, wrestled a tree, gave yourself food poisoning, got us lost in a mall, wrapped yourself up in Christmas lights, got what my dad called an impossibly adorable Christmas card photo, and made this an incredibly fun Christmas. So, we all chipped in and got you a little something extra."

He took the box and began to carefully unwrap it, before giving up all semblance of control. There was a first aid kit, filled with bandages, Tylenol, burn cream, and a photo of all of them together. They were all wearing hideous sweaters and Santa hats and looking like they were going to break out laughing. On the back, there was a message. _We didn't really know what to write here. It's a bit strange really, but we can only say that we're so grateful for what you do. We're a family and we wouldn't be the same without you. Thank you and Merry Christmas. _

**So, what did you guys think of it? The ending sort of feels rushed and kind of sucky, but other than that, what do you think? I've left out some christmas cookies and latkes for everybody and in the meantime, I'm off to go for a run while listening to Wizards in Winter before decorating the Hanukkah Bush/Christmas Tree. **


	7. Movie Night

**I just want to first point out that I am not even remotely sorry about anything I just wrote. Not in the least bit. It's just way too much fun to make Jack the Universe's bitch. That being said, I would like to apologize to those reading Across the Universe as I was supposed to have the next chapter of that up, however Vanilla Instant Coffee betrayed me this week and thusly, my laptop is being repaired, so I'm writing this from my family's desktop where I have none of my stuff backed up. This, thankfully, is a little plot bunny that just happened to cross my mind whilst I lounged at the beach the other day so it never went to laptop land. Anywho, now that the overly long explanation for things not being on schedule is done, allons-y!  
**

**Disclaimer: I regret nothing, I own nothing.  
**

**_Movie Night_  
**

Things had officially crossed the line. Not in the traditional Heylin sense of destruction, murder, and poor fashion choices (such as Ashley's new Nicki Minaj hair do), but there was line crossing nonetheless. Line crossing that conveniently took place just when things were looking up for the Jack Man. You could mock his games, you could make him sip imaginary tea, you could wreck his home, make him deny that you knit, but you did not get him kicked out of a movie theatre.

Seriously, it had finally been enough time since the Honey Badger Caper that he could begin to think about possibly considering maneuvering himself into a position where it would be feasible to mull over becoming potentially able to toss around the idea of musing about maybe perhaps flirting with the concept of getting back in the rest of the Heylin's good graces, but then he just had to invite them to a movie.

Not just any movie, but one Omi had actually mentioned Kimiko dragged them to as a highly successful "Xiaolin Team Bonding" exercise. Stupid team bonding and cool movies with their getting him back into deep shit and ruining his hard work. Although in retrospect, perhaps he shouldn't have picked _that_ particular film. The Avengers just looked so cool though and he'd really wanted to see it and hadn't yet because one of his bots accidentally washed his opening night tickets.

Chase was pissed off before they'd even entered the theatre. Unfortunately for him, his hair had finally grown back in after the Park Place Debacle and the Tea Party incident. His thick, luxurious hair, combined with his penchant for dressing in green, black, and gold earned him a series of tacklehugs from various fangirls hanging around the lobby. Needless to say, he was a mite peeved by these events. Wuya, on the other hand, thought it hilarious. Or at least Jack thought she did. He was reasonably sure he caught her giving an incredibly dirty look to one particularly touchy fangirl.

And things only went down hill from there. Le Mime and Wuya were almost kicked out before they even got in due to various shenanigans. Namely, he was trying to sneak in snails for a snack and she wasn't wearing shoes. That set Jack back another fifteen dollars right there because the little old lady taking tickets was a serious badass and there was no way Le Mime would set foot in the theatre without a snack and he had to get Wuya a pair of shitty flip-flops from the Five Below across the mall, which she had not stopped complaining about. Something about the hideous shade of bubble gum pink and the fact that they were shoes.

Then Ashley spent the first half hour in the theatre gushing about how all the guys in the movie were, "So hot." Everybody kept hissing at her to shut up, but that didn't happen until the scene with the punching bags when the entire population of the theatre went so silent you could have heard a feather drop if not for the sounds of the movie.

Then Chase and Wuya got to criticizing Loki because apparently he had a stupid plan and even stupider hair. Chase even drew reprimands from the usher from his rather loud and angry comments as to the stupidity of the costuming designer because according to him, "That armor is ridiculous. Why would they think that is acceptable?" Jack would have retorted with a, "Pot, meet Kettle. You're both black," but he was already having a difficult enough time enjoying himself and he got the feeling that the evil overlord hadn't quite calmed down from the last tacklehug.

Le Mime kept miming death threats at the popcorn because it was a disgusting snack that didn't even come close to measuring up to the heavenly delicacy that was snails. Some of them were way more violent than Jack thought crappy movie theatre popcorn warranted. He told the guy to stop as he was attracting funny looks from the neighboring moviegoers and the ushers.

And then it turned out that Ashley smuggled her kittens into the theatre and they'd of course wriggled their way out of her bag, so he had to crawl around on the theatre floor to help her look for them while stuff blew up. When they'd finally wrangled Mittens and Boots, he'd decided that perhaps it would be best for him to find another seat so he could actually try and watch the movie. That idea backfired spectacularly.

The only remaining open seat was in front of a small child who was obviously in the care of an older sibling or something because they kept kicking his chair and whining about how he wanted to see something else and how the guy next to him smelled like cheese and _his_ parents had certainly never let him do that. He tried to tolerate it, he really did, but that last showdown had done a number on his back and repeated blunt impact was not what he needed right now. He tried not to react to the little bugger, but he was not having a good day and his poor back really couldn't take it.

He vaguely recalled standing up, straightening his trench coat, and turning to face the little brat, but after that, things got sort of fuzzy. The next thing he knew, he was standing outside the mall with a security guard lecturing him, citing numerous complaints about his disruptive behavior throughout the film.

He didn't even have the sanity to react to that. He just walked back to his car, sat on the hood because he'd somehow managed to lock his keys inside, and pondered how exactly he got the blame for, "threatening gestures towards concessions" and "rude comments about L'Oreal's effectiveness at removing hair grease."

By the time bot 413 arrived with his spare set of keys, he'd come to the conclusion that he'd stop taking advice from Omi. Next time he decided to do team bonding, they were going to go extreme ironing, because according to the cheese ball, that was a terrible idea, hated by everyone involved. Yes, extreme ironing. What could go wrong with that?

**So...what do you think? I do try, but I feel like this just sort of fell apart. I'm either too long winded or too vague and it honestly just feels like it's not as funny as I wanted it to be. Anywho, a review right now would be absolutely lovely.**


	8. Halloween Party

**Alright, so thank you for putting up with the shittons of notifications that you probably got from me reorganizing my fics. I assure you, it was for the greater good. Namely, satisfying my CDO, but still, the greater good.  
**

**So guys...I'm vaguely nice to Jack this time around. Not really, but at least vaguely. Just as a heads up, it's sort of obvious in this fic that my senioritis is setting in. I've realized that I both hate more people than I thought I did and I don't hate more people than I thought I did, if that makes sense. Anywho, some parts of this feel a bit out of character, and it's not particularly funny, some of the jokes you'll only get if you're a real 90's kid, and just as a warning there are passing references to alcohol. Also as a heads up, I decided that Jack was dressed as Tony Stark, only I couldn't find a good place to fit it in so yeah. **

**Coralline Slayer: Yes. I may eventually be posting Extreme Ironing. And it will be epic. Thanks for the review! :^)  
**

**Revolutionarymind: That's what makes me love Jack in the weirdest way. No matter how much he gets knocked down, he gets back up with an even zanier scheme in mind. Thanks for the review! :^)  
**

**Moonheart13: Thanks for the review! Yeah, Heylin Family bonding is best isn't it? :^)  
**

**Summary: Jack tries to be a normal teenager. Unfortunate Antics Ensue. **

He would never be entirely clear on what happened. All he knew was that things had finally gone too far, he'd snapped, and now he was sitting in the koi pond with his invitation to extreme ironing thrown back in his face while the sounds of the Halloween party blared in the distance.

Like most things in his life, this started out normally. He figured that since it was his senior year, he might as well make the most of it and try to be social. Of course, everybody still thought of him as the weird goth, taxidermy nerd so what better way to be social than via a Halloween party. He'd invited a few people he knew in his metal shop and AP calc classes and to sweeten the deal, he made sure to mention that his parents were out of town for a convention and had a rather impressive liquor cabinet, then to be completely sure, he'd invited Ashley, she let everyone else know, and things had snowballed from there just as planned. Within a week, most of the senior class of Alexander Gettler Memorial High School was planning for the Halloween party of the century.

He'd even invited the Xiaolin Losers, albeit begrudgingly, after Omi found out during a showdown and he couldn't say no to the kid.

Still, things were going to be, in the words of philosopher Barnabas Stinson, Legendary. Normally, the Spicer household was all decked out for Halloween, but this year he'd outdone even himself. There were fake cobwebs hanging from every door and window, tombstones with robotic zombie arms crawling out from the ground all over the yard, a state of the art stereo blasting only the best of the horrifying hits (among them Werewolves of London, Thriller, and Call Me Maybe), a fog machine coating the floor in a sea of gray waves, a set of black and blue lights to give the manor a spooky air, and his piece de resistance, furbies set where people would least expect them.

"Way to go loser," Ashley said, sauntering up to him, adjusting the mask on her Catwoman costume. "This doesn't completely blow." That was what she said anyway. When he saw her earlier, Kitty Litter had been positively ecstatic.

At first, he'd been nervous, he wasn't great at the whole socialization thing, but from what people were telling him, Rich, Goth Kid Halloween was a success. Plus, just from chilling with the people that showed make him rethink his opinions on the majority of his senior class. There were still a few that had only showed for the booze or he would just flat out would never like, but he was sure that if his schedule of evil and school work allowed, he would make an effort to be more social in the future.

Even the monks looked to be enjoying themselves. They were initially wary of the reluctant invitation, but eventually accepted his temporary truce. They'd shown up late, but fashionably so with Raimundo dressed as Captain Jack Harkness, Omi as Aang, Clay as Indiana Jones, and Kimiko as the Black Widow. He'd lost track of the Xiaolin Lovebirds a while back, quite frankly he didn't care to know where they went, Tex'd joined a group bobbing for apples, and the Cheeseball was somehow in the middle of a group of cheerleaders with all of them gushing about how cute he was. He'd kill to know how the kid'd managed that one.

Still, as with everything in his life, just when things seemed to be getting better, everything went to hell in a handbasket.

"Dude, you didn't tell me there were college people coming," said a guy wearing a bedsheet toga, Jack was reasonably sure his name was Steve. That couldn't be right, no college student worth their acceptance letter would consider this party for half a second. Plus, the nearest school was at least an hour's drive away. This couldn't end well.

"What?" he asked, still not sure if he could believe it.

"Yeah, some guy and this chick showed up," he said. "The guy's sort of an asshat. Liz just complimented his Loki costume and..." He desperately hoped that it was some college asshole party crasher in a Loki costume.

"Fuck," he said, bolting out into the foyer only to see not a pair of college assholes, but Chase and Wuya. Chase was standing in the corner, muttering about how he _washed_ his hair thank you very much, the witch had a firm grip on his arm, holding him back from irrational villainous costuming related shenanigans. "Fuck."

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" he asked, trying to keep a happy front despite scanning the party around of them. Most people were giving the immortals some serious death glares and it would not due to have the Xiaolin Losers find out about this and make a scene.

"As loath as I am to admit it," Chase said through clenched teeth. "We have need of your unique mechanical abilities."

This was a particularly tricky moment for Jack as he was torn between gaining the approval of his evil idol and relishing in a rare moment of social acceptance. He was still planning that extreme ironing outing and knew that the other villain's attendance was dependant on Chase and Wuya's so if he didn't want to be ironing his trench coat on top of a mountain by himself, he would have to go along with them. However, he'd gotten a few invites to hang out with people and he didn't want to jeopardize that by leaving to fix, build, mechanicalize, whatever, something these two cooked up. Fortunately, or not so fortunately, he didn't need to make a decision.

"Do you see..." Wuya said, pointing to a nearby vase where a furby perched, it's glassy eyes staring at the trio.

"They were sealed..." he continued.

"It can't be..."

"Spicer," he said, sounding dangerously calm. "Where did you get this?"

"Walmart. Freaky right?" he said, allowing himself to sound just a little proud that he'd freaked out even an evil badass's evil badass.

"You know not what you do," Wuya hissed.

"Chillax you old hag," he said, looking around to make sure things hadn't gotten out of hand. "It's just a toy."

"This," Chase said, reaching out and removing the furby from it's vase. "Is not a toy. Do you..."

"Hahahahahhahahahahhaahwhahah ahwhwhhamahwahaha." He had to give the fuzzball credit, it did a spot on impersonation of his laugh. Not for long though. The next thing he knew, the thing was whizzing out the door and a car alarm was singing its song into the night. Unfortunately for him, he knew that car alarm. Only he was cool enough to make his car alarm the Batman theme.

He rushed out the door, ignoring the other villains, to check on his baby, only to find the glossy black paint and fine tuned metal of the hood buckled in a furby related crater. Without second thought, he turned around, smoothed his shirt, and marched back into the house. Things had gone too far. Chase had dented his car. Evil hero or no evil hero, there was payback to be had.

He made eye contact with the overlord, being certain to communicate every bit of his fury. "You. Dented. My. Car," he snarled, his fingers clenching into a fist before swinging wildly at the face of one very surprised Chase Young.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the koi pond and Chase was standing at the edge, a hit of a bruise already forming on his cheekbone. "Evil probation. One month. You will not so much as _jaywalk_." And with that, without even an explanation for evil probation, the warlock strode off into the night.

As he sat, still dazed and confused, in the pond, a round of applause went up from a group of people watching.

"Dude, that was awesome!" said Steve, rushing over as Jack hauled himself out of the pond.

"I never thought you would do _that_," Ashley said, helping him out of the pond, sounding more than a bit impressed with him.

"All in a day's work for the Jack Man," he said, staggering towards the house. He needed a ginger ale. Or a banana daiquiri. A month of vaguely described probation. Although given the looks he was getting, he might just be able to make it bearable.

**So how much do you guys hate me right now? A lot? A little? More than you can even imagine? Anywho, I've set out a little candy bowl with peanut butter cups and chocolate covered pretzels. Please feel free to partake whenever you're ready. **


	9. Practice

**Alrighty then. I was going to do something for Christmas, then I realized that my last two christmas specials covered all the bases and I could not think of one novel idea. So, I went back to Jack trying to be a semi-normal teenager and failing miserably. I've had a bit of an odd head canon for a while now that Jack could run fairly well if he had to, he's sure as heck had enough practice escaping the monks, so enjoy what he would so with it if he had to.**

**Guest: Hey dude, thanks for the review, but no hating. Especially on one of my whachamawhosits. Plus, if you think I'm doing this well, then you've got another thing coming. **

**Ms Briar: Haha, thanks! :^)**

**Moonheart13: Thanks! I do try! :^)  
**

**Angelic Sakura Blossem: I know. That's just rude. Thanks for the review! :^)  
**

**Revolutionarymind: Thanks for the review! And yeah, I kept seeing adds for furbies and I was really confused because those things are the devil incarnate.  
**

**Summary: Jack joins track. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.  
**

"Well Matt, it goes like this," he said. Matt had given him that, "Oh god you are so crazy," look again. Matt was the guy he'd initially thought was named Steve from his Halloween party. Matt had become his new friend and Jack was rather grateful for that as Chase took evil probation very seriously. He'd jaywalked once and he'd come home to tigers sitting in his basement. He had three weeks to go and he needed distractions or else he would go back to building killer robots and find his lab trashed. Hanging out with Matt and his friends was a good distraction. As was his current plan.

"I need extracurricular before I apply to colleges. If I can get onto Varsity before I submit my application to MIT, I'll look like a better rounded student, and if I look like a better rounded student, then I have a better chance of getting into the school of my dreams," he finished.

"Yeah, but why am I here?" Matt asked, looking visibly uncomfortable in the gym full of Indoor Track people.

"Because I need a friend to do this with and your athletic fees are paid for the year," Jack replied. The brown haired boy gave an incredulous, borderline barking laugh.

"I played golf. Golf is not track," he said, indicating his displeasure with sweeping hand motions.

"If you're not gonna run, there's shot put," he said, although looking at the lanky boy, shot put might not have been the best option.

"Are you sure it's not too late to back out of this?"

"Yes." He'd actually had to pay the fees, he couldn't hack the databases this time, and he wasn't about to waste that money now. "Now, do you have any idea which events are worth doing?"

"Dude, you're no athlete. You're gonna get your ass handed to you," Matt said, rolling his eyes again. "Are you sure you don't have a better plan?"

"Would you rather do this or indoor lacrosse?"

"Let's see what we can find for events!"

Over the course of the afternoon, Jack managed to fail at hurdles, shot put, high jump, and long jump before he had a chance to do an actual running event. He knew he could run, he'd spent enough time running from the Xiaolin Losers, and he was eager to put his skills to good use. They were having 600M try outs next, this should be interesting.

He stepped into one of the lines, careful not to have to make small talk with the freshmen in front of him. The freshmen were annoying. He'd never been that annoying as a freshman. No, he'd kept to himself, plotting global domination in peace rather than attempting to pass off memes as jokes and annoying the seniors. And he'd never been that short.

What with his mental complaining about the freshmen, he never noticed the five boys in the lanes around him. By the time the people in front of him went, he realized that he was up against the varsity captain, last year's MVP, last year's high points award winner, and two other star athletes. It was only when their qualifier was about to run that he really realized that he had no idea was he was doing. They had three years of experience. Fuck.

"Ohgodohgodohgod," he murmured, attempting to copy their crouches on the start blocks. This was not going to end well. He was going to die of humiliation, at track practice, wearing gym shorts. And somehow, through his panic, he managed to register the sound of the starter's shot and everything became worse.

To his panicked mind, the shot sounded incredibly like Kimiko blowing up one of his Jackbots. Years of conditioning had taught him one thing: run like hell the other way if the bots start to blow up, because the monks are never far behind. And with that, he took off. He was sure he was only screamed a little. Or at least, that's what people would tell him later.

Things were actually going pretty well, given that he hadn't had to run from the monks in the last five weeks. He wasn't in first, but he wasn't in dead last either. However, as he came into the final stretch, he didn't realize that he failed to take into account the Laws of Murphy.

Matt was currently trying shot put. The weight of the ball meant that the scrawny boy had very little control over it. However, Jack also failed to take into account that his new friend was a good deal stronger than he looked in his initial assessment of his shot put prowess. He also failed to account for some genius deciding that shot put stuff would be done in the centre of the track.

With all that taken into account, the facts were these: Jackson Spicer was nearing the end of 600M try outs. Matthew Davis was attempting to throw a shot put. Mr. Davis was incapable of aiming the shot put if his life depended on it. And so, as he whirled and prayed that the shot would land in the proper place, there was no actual chance that it would. In fact, it went about forty degrees to the left of the target area, a safe corner by the wall of the gym with almost no danger of hitting anybody, and instead flew directly into the path of five oncoming athletes and one boy genius.

Twenty minutes later, Jack was being loaded into an ambulance, being told by a very apologetic Matt that, while his other events had been abysmal, the 600M time and the fact that the coaches felt very sorry for him for having his foot broken with a shot put on his first day, he had, in fact, made varsity. Jack on the other hand could only think of the irony of it all. Fighting the monks for domination of the world left him with nothing worse than some cuts, bruises, and burns, whereas one day of track practice had broken his foot.

Still, he had to see the light in the situation. This way he would have an excuse for not continuing with track when his probation was up, and maybe some sympathy points for when he planned out the Extreme Ironing event. And he could build a robot wheelchair. He'd always wanted a robot wheelchair.

**So...It turns out that I'm not quite dead. For, in the words of the miracle man, mostly dead is still slightly alive. All dead, well the best you can do for them is go through their pockets and hope for loose change. And hopefully, you choose to give me reviews rather than take my loose change. Or something like that. **


	10. Serious Business

**I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry at all. I blame Spady for this. Jack is a terrible influence on young children and should never be asked to babysit. **

**Ms Briar: Thanks for the review! Oh science that sucks. That must have hurt...**

**Spadefire: Thanks for the review! Yeah, that's just how I roll. **

_**Serious Business**_

**Summary: Jack sells Girl Scout cookies. Unfortunate Antics Ensue**

He was going to regret this later, but at the moment, taking those pictures were so worth it. Here they were, two fully grown adults, standing on the street corner in berets and sashes, selling Girl Scout cookies. He could just sit back, relax, and watch two immortal badasses failing terribly at selling delicious cookies.

This was an almost perfect improvement to his day. It'd started out with being charged with supervising Megan's troop's cookie sale, and of course, what with him still on crutches from the shot put incident, it wasn't exactly a fun job. And of course, Chase and Wuya showed up around noon and apparently needed him to something mechanical, which could potentially result in the end of his evil probation. And of course, Megan, Suzy, and Whatsherface wouldn't just let him go and end his probation because apparently they needed an adult present. So, as much as he wanted to start jaywalking again, he was instead stuck here.

And of course, they weren't exactly happy with that and that'd led to an argument over how difficult this job actually was, which in turn led to the two of them taking over the stand. Dressed as Girl Scouts. And he was enjoying every moment of it. He'd sent Megan out for hot chocolate while back, he had a chair, and his JackPhone (patent pending) was full of shots of the two of them losing sales. It wasn't really a big deal, he knew they could make back the money and more by selling the remaining cookies to the Xiaolin Losers and the jungle cats at double the price, but it was _so_ satisfying to watch.

"Aren't you two a little old to be Girl Scouts?" one particularly pedantic soccer mom said, examining a box of Thin Mints.

"No," Wuya said, not even bothering to sound younger. It was hideously obvious that they weren't actually kids, but the woman didn't push it further. Her son on the other hand…

"Aren't you a dude?" Chase only replied with The Look. Jack knew that Look. The one that managed to communicate that if you kept up whatever it was that you were doing, he would cover you in yarn and dangle you over the cats.

"And that precludes me from selling these delicious..." he picked up a box and examined the label. "Lemonaides at eight dollars a hideously misspelled box how?" Just when he thought this exchange couldn't get any more awkward…

The rest of the day went pretty much like that, Wuya being alternatingly surly and overly friendly to customers and Chase utterly failing as a salesman because of attempts to use evil emotional manipulation over something as trivial as cookies. Part way through the day, they'd somehow managed to get a hold of a sharpie and insisted on correcting the spelling on all the boxes. If anything, that made their enterprise even worse.

"So girls, what did you learn today?" he said, watching the two of them attempting to force a box of Samoas on a group of teenagers. It should have been the easiest sell ever, yet somehow they were driving teenagers away from cookies.

"Don't intimidate your buyers and offer a warm, inviting shopping environment, but at the same time don't be overly familiar and be firm about prices," said Megan. The kid had been reading a copy of an advanced business textbook in her spare time.

"Don't leave your merchandise unattended," said Suzy.

"Don't tell people their hair is stupid if yours is even stupider," said Whatsherface. The kidlet had a point.

"Good lessons. Now, watch a real business man work some magic," he said, taking out his JackPhone (Patent Pending) and dialed Kimiko's number. "Yo Xiaolin Losers…" He would find out later that they weren't buying the cookies at the inflated price as Tex knew all about the cookie prices because of his sister being a former scout. Thankfully, their gecko wasn't so informed.


End file.
